Sadness All Around
by sweet-baby-lemon
Summary: While Sara is having some doubts about everything Grissom shows up. It is GSR. Chapter 3 is up...what's Grissom doing on his knees?
1. Default Chapter

I hope you guys enjoy this somewhat.

Sara stared intently into a hand-held mirror, grimacing at her own reflection. 'No wonder he turns away, not even looking at me.' And in a moment of fury, she hurtled the mirror at a wall watching it spread its diamond losses onto a carpet with a certain satisfaction. She sighed deeply, and let her legs collapse sending her onto a nicely positioned couch situated inches away. Sara buried her face in her hands, slowly shaking her head. 'What is there left to do? Leave?' No, she thought, she couldn't do that. Never. To be apart from that man would be instantaneous death, but then again, watching him turn away from her was promising to be the exact same thing.

She slowly leaned back, and carelessly let her body fall onto the sofa. Sara let her eyes close, wishing to be taken away to that safe haven, where no one could hurt her. But she forgot one thing as her senses were numbed and she succumbed to the gentle tugging of slumber. She forgot that the safe haven was stripped away from her the moment he said, "No." to her dinner invitation. The man who led her on and then shattered her heart multiple times now haunted her even there. Even in her dreams. Sara couldn't find peace anywhere. And what else was there to be done except carry around the burden till she finally broke down?

As his face floated in front of hers, Sara felt inclined to talk to him, make him understand, even in her sleep. But as soon as she took a step forward he started repeating in such a cold voice, "No. No, Sara. I don't want to have dinner with you. No. **No**!" She felt her eyes tear up and tried very hard to control them. She was unsuccessful though, and woke up with a great sob and a torrent of tears. She just did not know what to do anymore. Flirting was so easy back then, back before she started to follow his hints which all led up to nothing. Yes, that time was easy. But, now, at least she knew what love was all about: sleepless nights, numberless hours wasted crying, self doubts, broken mirrors.'

Shakily, she stood from the couch, and on unbalanced legs crept up against a wall.

"Why me? Why me?" She sobbed to no one in particular. "Damn it, why **me**?" She cried out loud and half heartedly beat upon the wall with a fist. "All I ever did was love him. All I ever did..." she whispered the last sentence, and back against the wall, she slid down to the floor. As Sara sat staring into space, she fingered the small shards of glass that were scattered about her. The icy feel of it exhilarated her, and she couldn't take her hand away. The glass comforted her, sending frigid chills followed by a hot sting up and down her palm.

"Hmm?" Sara, distracted, looked down upon her bleeding hand. The glass had dug itself into the smooth flesh of her fingers, tearing away at the skin. As the blood trickled around the grooves in her palm and onto the floor, tears of fury welled up in her eyes. It wasn't fair. It just wasn't fair. As if her heart wasn't cut up enough already. As if that wasn't enough. She made a fist once more, ignoring the burning in her hand, and firmly tapped upon the wall in dying anger. Her beating became harder, and harder, and harder. Until finally she yelled out, "What do you WANT from me Gil?" She paid no heed to the bloody spatters on her wall as tears overtook her once more.

Sara almost jumped out of her skin when she head a knock at her door. "Who is it?" She called out in such a false, strong voice that it surprised ever her, the queen of masquerades.

"Sara, it's me." A voice answered from behind the door. 'Damn it!' Sara though, and hurriedly helped herself off the floor. She gingerly held her bleeding hand while making her way to look into the peephole. Her ears had not betrayed her. It was indeed him. The man who was the reason of her present being. Her pain was rooted down in his own presence. "Sara?" He voiced aloud his concern after the treacherous sounds from behind the wooden barrier quieted. "I know you're in there, Sar. Please, open up." Sara leaned forward, placing her forehead against the coolness of the door. Squeezing her eyes shut so hard that start popped into her vision, she still could not prevent the tears from coming. Another loud knock brought the despairing woman to her senses and she jumped back a little with momentary fright.

As in slow motion, her hand slowly crept up to the door knob, unlocking the joint locks, Sara eased the door open.

TBC


	2. 2

"Hi." He whispered, looking at the forlorn shadow of a woman who used to be the vibrant ray in his daily existence. Now however, she was the shell of a person who used to joke around, adding an extra oomph into his day. Sara didn't respond. She just stood in the doorway staring at her hand in disbelief. Where had the blood come from? Uneasy seconds slipped by. "Uh, Sara, may I come in?" Sara started and fixed her gaze on him.

"What do you want Grissom? Why did you come?" 'Why do you always come when I'm ready to leave?'

"I uh, I just wanted to see you." he fumbled. Sara's anger began to slowly creep back into her body, weaving in and out of her veins like a slithering snake. So, now, she was invisible at work too.

"Well, you saw me. Goodbye. She raised her injured hand to slam the door shut when Grissom took a step forward, grabbing her bloody palm.

"No, Sara. I don't want to go." Grissom gingerly rubbed her lotioned hand with his thumb.

"Tough luck! I guess you'll just have to live with it like I've had to live with **your **crap for the last year." She spat out at him, trying to wring her hand away but in turn embedding the glass deeper than ever. Sara let out an anguished groan as her knees buckled under the excruciating pain. Grissom, the knight in shining armor, caught her by the arms before she had a chance to personalize with her carpeting. Stepping over the thresh hold, he was now in her personal space. "Let me help you Sara. I know that you're in pain. Just, please, I want to make it better." She smelled his intoxicating scent, letting it fog up her thoughts.

"Griss, it hurts." She stated succinctly, inches away from his face, hand long forgotten. Grissom carefully brought up her bleeding palm and pressed his lips to it in a slow kiss.

"I know. I _promise_, I'll fix it." He licked off the blood that was on his lips. "I'll take your pain away if you will just let me." Sara took a deep breath hoping it would cleanse her body and let her think a little straighter. The opposite happened however, and she just tried to determine what aftershave Grissom had used that morning.

"I, I don't know Griss. What if it's too late"" Her palm closed in on itself defensively in his own. Her eyes pleading with his own.

"It's not, Sara. It's _not _too late! Please Sara, I can help you. I **want **to help you. Please, I want to help..." he opened her fingers once more, "us. Please? It's not too late. Not unless you want it to be."

"I, I..." 'I love you.' Her last thought, before the dark oblivion overtook her withered body, fluttered like a lost butterfly in her head.


	3. 3

Thank you for all of the wodnerful reviews, there's probably one more, maybe two, chapters left.

Grissom frantically looked around, not knowing what to do. He held a limp body in his hands, the front door was open, and he was, inevitably, a male. Quickly and carefully, Grissom put Sara's body on the couch and rushed to close the door. Having locked it, he leaned back for support. What was he supposed to do? He hurriedly ran into the kitchen and in a state of panic filled up the first cup that he found. Rushing over to the couch, one hand underneath the cup to collect the spilling water, Grissom threw the contents over Sara's face. He stood back, waiting for something to happen. Anything. At all.

"Great." he muttered as he bent over Sara's face and gently wiped off the water, "Drown her why don't you." He placed the cup onto a coffee table and wrung his hands together. "Well, I _am _a scientist. A pretty damn good one. I can figure this out." He re-positioned Sara's body, trying to make her as comfortable as possible before letting out a pent up breath. "So..." Grissom got down on his knees and slowly leaned over Sara's body. "Still breathing. Good."

His mind was going a mile a minute, his hands were beginning to shake, and beads of sweat popped up on his forehead. "Saaaara. Wake up." His voice pitch went down a notch, "Please?" He whined like a little child, hoping this humiliation will somehow force her to regain consciousness. "Oh for goodness's sakes!" He cried out, getting to his feet. "Wake up woman! I mean it!" He let out an exasperating sigh and dropped back down to his knees again. He tenderly hovered over her face. "Sara?" He whispered, "Can you hear me?" He leapt back with a little yelp when he saw her eye lid flicker, then laughed at his rash reaction. Sara's eyes were probably just acting up on their own

He crept over her once more, and again whispered her name, "Sar?" He taped her cheek with the tips of his fingers. Sara didn't move. Grissom could never slap her cheek as they did in the movies, and this was the next best thing. Squeezing his eyes shut, Grissom looked away and once more touched her cheek with his fingertips. Looking back at her with one eye squinting open he let out another sigh. He leaned in even closer now, "Sara?" he whispered. As her eyelid flickered again Grissom leaned on his knee, looking at the kitchen, and thought what a good improvement he'd made between jumping back and not moving at all when Sara had made an involuntary movement. He let out a chuckle and recovered his gaze back to Sara. Grissom jumped back with a gasp, knocking the coffee table over in his haste, when he found Sara's eyes intently staring back into his own. "Sara!" He picked himself off the floor and put the table into an upright position. "You're awake. Good God!" Sara's eyes followed his every movement yet she did not make a sound. "Uh, sorry about that," he motioned back to the table, and hurriedly scooped up the fallen cup from the floor, placing it upon the wooden surface of the table. "Just you know, a little...jumpy. You had me scared for a second there, I didn't know..."

"Griss." Sara uttered his name so softly he almost didn't hear it over his own babbling.

"Yes, Sara?"

"Come here," she deftly motioned with her hand, "please." Grissom did as he was told and went to stand over Sara's horizontal form. "Come _here_," she motioned with her finger and Grissom leaned in a little closer to her face. He stopped when her incessant finger ceased wiggling; when he was inches away from her face. "Griss?"

"Hmm hm." He responded just before their lips met. One kiss turned into two, and then into three, and four. Sara scooted over on the couch and Grissom thankfully got on top of it. He positioned himself over Sara so that his elbows propped him up and that Sara remained squished-free. After the first necessity of both persons was fulfilled Sara looked up into Grissom's face.

"Griss?" She questioned, smirking a little.

"Yeah?" He answered a little warily.

"What are you doing?" She let out a small giggle but received a raised eyebrow in response. Had he gone too far? "I mean, what are you _doing_? You look really uncomfortable." She scanned over his position: it looked like he was doing a push up and she had gotten in between himself and the couch.

"Well, I just didn't want to hurt you." He stumbled a little over his words. Upon hearing her laugh, he slowly eased up off his elbows and covered Sara's body with his own. It was nice to feel his body along hers, top to bottom. The feeling of being 'grounded' was a nice one; one that she had no desire to loose.

"Much better." She whispered and with a quirky smile initiated a second round of kisses.

TBC...well, her hand is still bloody.


End file.
